


No Place to Be Sick

by JJJunky



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-11
Updated: 2011-06-11
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJJunky/pseuds/JJJunky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlantis and Sheppard aren't getting along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Place to Be Sick

Rodney crept into the control room, hoping to slip onto a chair in front of an empty workstation without anyone noticing. He was unsuccessful.

"Dr. McKay," Woolsey quietly pointed out, "Colonel Sheppard and Teyla aren't scheduled to check in for another hour."

Lies usually came easily to Rodney's lips, but his glib tongue failed him as completely as his inability to be furtive. "I know."

"Then I believe your skills would be more beneficial in your lab."

It was hard to deny the truth. Reluctantly climbing to his feet, Rodney said, "Contact me as soon as they check in."

"Of course," Woolsey confirmed.

There was no reason Rodney should be concerned for his colleagues. Carson's request for medical supplies had taken Sheppard and Teyla to a planet where a majority of the population was suffering from a bad case of what appeared to be the flu. It sounded innocuous. But history has shown the flu bug was anything but harmless. On Earth, more people had died from the 1918 epidemic than in the First World War.

It also didn't help that Rodney had been on one mission too many that had been considered a milk run, only to end up a prisoner of the Wraith or some other nasty whose only purpose in life was to see Atlantis destroyed.

Sheppard's last two reports had given them no reason to believe this would end as something other than a humanitarian mission. Yet Rodney was not appeased.

He had barely taken a step away from the station when the stargate activated.

Crossing to Chuck's side, Woolsey demanded, "Who is it?"

"It's Teyla's IDC, sir."

As soon as a transmission was possible, Woolsey called, "What can we do for you, Teyla?"

 _"Mr. Woolsey,"_ Teyla's worried voice echoed around the room, _"Colonel Sheppard is very ill. Dr. Beckett says it is urgent that we return to Atlantis."_

 __"Is the illness contagious?"

 _"Possibly. Which is why anyone who comes in contact with us should wear a hazmat suit."_

 __"Wouldn't it be safer if we sent you whatever supplies Colonel Sheppard might need?"

 _"John is having difficulty breathing. He requires the use of machines that would not operate on this planet."_

 __"Understood." Woolsey worriedly pulled at his upper lip. "What do you require?"

 _"A stretcher as John is unable to walk."_

 __"I'll have someone bring one to you. Anything else?"

 _"Dr. Beckett suggests you have an isolation room prepared. We'll go directly to it."_

 __"Won't that be dangerous?"

 _"Apparently this virus isn't an airborne contagion. As long we don't come into physical contact with anyone it should be perfectly safe."_

 __"We'll call you when we have everything prepared. Atlantis out." Woolsey indicated Chuck should end the transmission.

Rodney felt vindicated. He had known something would go wrong with the mission Sheppard had deemed so safe that McKay and Ronon had stayed on Atlantis. But for once, Rodney wished he had been wrong.

"Contact Dr. Keller," instructed Wolsey. "Have her make preparations for the colonel's arrival. Also, tell her I need two corpsmen to help transport Colonel Sheppard back to Atlantis. They're to take every precaution to avoid contamination."

"Yes, sir," said Chuck, turning to his console.

Rodney dropped onto the chair he had just vacated. There was nothing he could actually do, but he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate so he would be useless in his lab. Worse than useless, his distraction could cause him to make a serious error. It would be much safer for everyone if he stayed where he was.

He drummed his fingers impatiently, ignoring the dirty looks sent his way. If he didn't allow his emotions an outlet, he would explode. Since that could only be done verbally, he figured those who found the noise irritating would be less upset with this method.

The first chevron locked into place as Ronon arrived in the Control Room. Rodney wasn't surprised to see his teammate. The man had an undeniable instinct for sensing trouble, especially when that trouble included John Sheppard.

Two men in orange hazmat suits stood a safe distance from the stargate as it continued to dial. One was carrying a folded stretcher, the other a case filled with medications. Rodney continued to drum his fingers impatiently. The dialing sequence seemed to be taking forever. Ronon's large hand clamped around his the nonverbal request quite clear. Once his hand was free, Rodney shook it, trying to get the blood circulating.

"Chevron seven is locked," Chuck reported.

The two corpsmen walked confidently into the blue puddle and disappeared. A few seconds later, the stargate deactivated.

It took every restraint Rodney had to keep from drumming his fingers again as he waited for the gate to be activated from the other side. How many times in the last five years had Sheppard "died," only to have him reappear, often saving the day? Rodney thought he should be immune to the terror presently enveloping him, until he realized this could be the one time Lazarus didn't rise.

The chevrons lit up and the wormhole exploded before settling back within the stargate.

One of the corpsmen appeared, his arms stretched taut from the weight of the load he was carrying. Teyla and Carson Beckett followed, walking on either side of the stretcher. Sheppard's head had barely cleared the event horizon when the wormhole abruptly closed. With no one left to support that end of the stretcher, it fell to the floor.

Shock held everyone immobile, everyone except Ronon. Rodney was still gaping at the inactive stargate when the Satedan appeared in the Embarkation Room, lifting Sheppard into his arms and cradling him as if he were a child.

"Ronon," Beckett protested, "you shouldn't have touched him, lad. Now you'll have to go into quarantine with us."

"Lead the way, Doc."

Since germs and illness in general terrified Rodney, he couldn't understand Ronon's actions. But he was grateful for them.

"Dr. McKay," demanded Woolsey, "what just happened?"

Tearing his eyes from his team, Rodney cried, "How am I supposed to know?"

"You're our expert on the stargate. We just lost a man. I want to know why."

Rodney swallowed bile when he realized the corpsman holding the head of Sheppard's stretcher had disintegrated when the wormhole closed. Though he longed to check on his friend, Rodney knew Sheppard would want him to fix the problem with the stargate. Until they did, no one could use the device either to go out or, more importantly, return. Moving to a console that would give him the results he would need, Rodney ordered, "Get Zelenka up here."

 

Rodney stared down into the isolation room with bloodshot eyes. Seventeen hours of searching and testing and they were no closer to discovering why the stargate had malfunctioned. No matter what they tried, they couldn't duplicate the problem. He was so tired he had almost fallen asleep over a hot connection. That was when Wolsey had ordered him to go to bed and get some sleep. Rodney had intended to obey, but found himself walking to the observation window overlooking Isolation Room One instead. Jennifer had kept him up-to-date on Sheppard's condition, but he wanted to see for himself. He knew he wouldn't sleep until he did.

"He's going to be fine," Keller softly encouraged, joining him at the window.

Gesturing at the equipment circling the bed, Rodney snorted. "You know that because of all the machines keeping him alive?"

"I know because of what those machines are telling us."

As Teyla wiped sweat from Sheppard's flushed face, Rodney whispered, "Forgive me if I appear skeptical."

"You're forgiven." Jennifer wrapped her arm around Rodney's.

"Do you know what's wrong with him yet?"

"It's some kind of mutated virus. According to Carson, it's the same illness infecting the villagers on the planet. Apparently, they have a partial immunity. They only had what we would consider a mild case of the flu, while Colonel Sheppard has something closer to pneumonia."

"But you have medicine to fix him, right?"

"Not drugs." Jennifer shook her head. "The machines are allowing his body to combat the disease. If Dr. Beckett hadn't gotten him back here when he did, the colonel would be dead."

"Instead of your corpsman."

Keller hugged his arm tighter and sadly nodded. "Do you know what caused the stargate to malfunction?"

"No." Rodney hated being short with her, he knew she was trying to make him feel better, but almost losing his friend and the frustration of not knowing what had killed a member of their expedition was making him feel angry . . . and scared.

Releasing his arm with a final pat, Jennifer suggested, "You should get some sleep."

It was good advice, but Rodney wasn't sure he could comply. However, staring at his sick friend wasn't going to fix the problem. "Will you call me if there's any change?"

"I promise." Jennifer held her hand up in a solemn pledge.

Almost envying Teyla, Ronon, and Carson, Rodney slowly backed away from the window. Only when he couldn't see the people inside did he turn and start walking toward his room.

 

Since no one had awakened him before his alarm went off, Rodney assumed nothing had changed since he went to bed six hours before. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed. The one positive aspect of the situation was that Sheppard hadn't died. Rodney trusted Jennifer enough to know she wouldn't have kept such news from him no matter how much she might have thought he needed sleep.

Even so, his first stop after a quick shower was the isolation room. The smiles on the faces of three of the room's occupants was a better stimulant than a pot of coffee. Activating his radio, Rodney demanded, "Carson, tell me that silly grin on your face is good news."

"Aye, it is." Beckett pointed to a monitor. "The fever broke. Unless there are complications, the colonel should make a full recovery."

Rodney couldn't respond verbally, his throat was too constricted. To show he had received and understood Carson's transmission, Rodney gave the doctor the thumbs up. He backed away from the window so those inside couldn't see his reaction.

Reining in his emotions, Rodney turned his attention to the PADD in his hand. He allowed the work to distract him. It had taken almost five years, but he had learned that showing how he felt wasn't a sign of weakness. Even Ronan wasn't stoic when it came to Sheppard. Still, Rodney liked to keep his feelings private.

Once he felt there was no physical sign of his relief, Rodney entered the control room. "Any progress?"

"We have run multiple tests," said Zelenka, obviously frustrated. "There appears to be nothing wrong."

"Tell that to the corpsman," Rodney snapped.

Radek flinched. "I am aware a man has died. But I cannot tell you why."

The stargate activated. Rodney crossed to stand behind Chuck waiting for the wormhole to form.

 _"Atlantis, is the stargate safe for use yet?"_ radioed Lorne.

Activating his comm unit, Rodney said, "Negative, Major, we still haven't discovered why it shut down. I don't believe it's safe."

 _"Unfortunately, we don't have a choice."_

 __The sound of weapons fire echoed across the line.

Rodney desperately called, "Major, I recommend you terminate this connection and dial the Alpha site."

Lorne shouted, _"We're coming through and we're coming through hot."_

 __"Drop the shield," Rodney ordered.

Energy beams exited the wormhole, striking the walls of the embarkation room. Rodney instinctively ducked though not a single shot came close to striking the protective shield around the control room.

Three men emerged from the stargate, keeping low as they moved to the side. They were quickly followed by a fourth. As soon as he cleared the event horizon, Lorne shouted, "Shut it down!"

Hands flying across his console, Chuck immediately complied.

"Well," observed Zelenka, "I was going to suggest we test living tissue next. That appears to be unnecessary now."

Woolsey entered the room. He was out of breath, indicating he had run all the way to the control room. "What's g-going o-on?" he puffed.

While Zelenka explained, Rodney checked the readings detailing the stargate's performance. Everything was within normal parameters, just like every other test they had run.

"Did you fix the problem?" demanded Woolsey, interrupting Radek.

Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "As far as we can discover there was no problem to fix."

"Can we resume normal stargate operations?"

Knowing someone else could die if he said yes and was wrong, Rodney hesitated. However, he also knew people could die if the stargate wasn't operational. It was a Catch-22 situation. They had run every test they could think of and had found nothing, which meant there was no logical reason not to return to normal operating procedures. "Yes," he unhappily conceded.

"Chuck," Woolsey said, "Contact the off-world teams, tell them they can return at their discretion."

"Yes, sir," the technician replied.

Each time the stargate dialed in, Rodney held his breath until the returning team was standing safely in the Embarkation Room. There were times he felt light-headed, but he wasn't sure if the condition was due to fear or lack of oxygen. By late afternoon, four teams had returned safely. Rodney was relieved but also puzzled. What had caused the corpsman's death?

 

Pale and weak, Sheppard eagerly followed McKay as he exited the infirmary. After a long week of being poked and prodded, he couldn't wait to reach his own room and sleep in his own bed. A wave of Rodney's hand activated the doors, making them slide open. John was right behind him, practically treading on his heels, when the doors suddenly slammed shut. Only quick reflexes saved Sheppard from serious injury. He stumbled forward almost knocking Rodney to the floor.

"I know you're eager to be sprung," groused McKay, "but this is a little extreme, even for you."

"It was either knock you on your ass or get crushed between the doors. I chose the happier solution."

"Don't tell me doors are malfunctioning now, too."

"Okay, I won't tell you."

"Ha, ha," sneered Rodney, "very funny."

Checking to make sure Rodney wasn't looking, John put a hand on the wall to steady himself and took a second to fill his lungs before continuing on his way. If this were a military matter, he would be worried, but it was a technical problem, so he could let Rodney handle it. Though he would never admit it out loud, John was relieved his skills weren't needed. Though he would never admit it, he barely had the energy to make it to his room; there were no reserves left for trouble. "Rodney, I'll see you when you get this new wrinkle ironed out."

"You're a real comedian. Is this a side-effect of the illness? If so, I'm glad no one else contracted it."

Wiggling his fingers goodbye, Sheppard acknowledged McKay's statement as he continued walking.

"I wouldn't mind a little help," Rodney called after him.

"If I see Zelenka, I'll let him know."

As he rounded a corner, John could hear Rodney grumbling behind him. Since there was no one around to see it, he allowed a smile to curve his lips. McKay had complaining down to a science, albeit one that was currently unrecognized as such. Once it was, John knew Rodney would be a shoe-in for a Nobel Prize.

When he reached his room, John activated the door controls. When they opened, he took a deep breath before sprinting across the threshold. The doors snapped closed, catching the bottom of his shirt and holding him fast. Sighing in exasperation, he waved his hand across the controls, pulling himself free as soon as the doors opened. He quickly moved to a safe distance before the doors slammed shut again.

Shaking his head, he fell onto his bed, more exhausted than he cared to admit by the short walk and shorter sprint. As he stretched out on his bed and closed his eyes, he hoped Rodney would get to the bottom of this new crisis by the time he woke up.

 

Rodney glared at the infirmary doors. No matter how many times he or anyone else walked through, they operated normally. Since coming to Atlantis, he had solved problems most people had thought impossible to decipher. He was considered the go-to guy when someone had a crisis. Blowing up most of a solar system aside, he had come through every time. Now, within a week, he had been presented with challenges he had been unable to resolve. It was more than frustrating; it scared the crap out of him since both instances had put his best friend's life in danger.

"Give it up, Rodney," advised Carson. "It must have been a fluke."

"A fluke that almost crushed Sheppard," Rodney reminded him.

"Aye, I understand your concern, but ya can't fix something that isn't broke."

Beckett had a point. Rodney could run diagnostics all day- in fact he had, with no results.

"Go get some sleep," advised Carson. "You'll make yerself sick if you keep this up."

Reluctantly, Rodney agreed. "All right, but wake me immediately if there's a problem."

"Scout's honor." Carson held up his left hand.

Shaking his head, Rodney pointed out, "You're supposed to take the oath with your right hand."

"Go!"

"I'm gone." Rodney picked up his equipment and warily walked out of the infirmary. The doors opened and closed with their normal speed. Giving them a last suspicious look, he slowly continued on to his room.

 

A knock at the door pulled Sheppard from a deep sleep. As he unsteadily climbed to his feet, he realized he had gone to bed fully clothed. He tried to work his befuddled brain around the reason why as he called, "Come in."

Rodney entered cautiously, one eye on the doors, the other on Sheppard. "Did you go sleep in your clothes?"

"Did you wake me up to ask me that?" John rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up.

"Of course not, I didn't know until I walked in the room."

"Then why did you wake me?"

Frowning, Rodney said, "Because there's another function you need to implement that is equally as important as sleep."

"What?" asked John, running a hand through his unruly hair.

"Eating." Rodney squeezed one of his friend's thin arms. "Carson says you need to put on some weight."

"I'll eat when I'm hungry."

"It's been twelve hours since you left the infirmary and even longer since you had your last meal. You're coming with me to the Mess."

Sheppard's stomach rumbled. "I guess I am a little hungry."

"I knew you would be." Rodney bounced on his toes.

As they started to exit the room, John stopped and asked, "Did you fix the problem with the doors?"

"We can't find a problem. It's just like the stargate: it happened once and hasn't happened again."

Despite Rodney's assurances, Sheppard exited as quickly as he could. He was grateful he did when the doors slammed closed. The edge caught his shoulder, spinning him around. He had the presence of mind not to put his hand on the doors to catch his balance. Rubbing his bruised arm, he pointed out, " So much for there not being a problem. I think we need to get a new Chief Scientist."

"I – I – I don't understand," stuttered Rodney.

"Clearly."

Gently pushing Rodney ahead of him, John suggested, "Let's get something to eat, before you try to find the problem. You can't even turn on a computer when your stomach is empty."

"Now you're exaggerating."

"Am I?"

Rodney pressed the button to call for the Atlantis version of an elevator. "Grossly."

"We'll see." Smiling, John followed his friend into the small transporter and pressed the symbol to take them closer to the Mess.

Instead of the usual smooth transfer, the device jerked violently, throwing its occupants to the floor. As the two men started to regain their feet another powerful shudder tossed them around, slamming Rodney into John with enough force to extract dual cries of pain. Bracing himself as best he could with his feet, Rodney yanked open the control panel, and pulled out one of the crystals. The transport settled instantly.

"Rodney," gasped John, "are you all right?"

Holding his right arm close to his body, Rodney shook his head. "I think my wrist is broken. How about you?"

"Twisted my knee."

Rodney fingered the control rod in his hand. "What just happened?"

"You're the scientist, you tell me."

"This isn't making any sense."

"I agree," John mumbled, "but could we wait until we get out of here before you try to analyze why? I'd rather not be in this thing if it decides to go crazy again."

"It can't open the doors without reinstalling the crystal."

"Great." Sheppard activated his comm unit. "This is Sheppard. McKay and I are trapped in the main tower's aft transporter."

"I will check into it immediately, Colonel," Zelenka responded.

Keller's voice replaced the scientist's. "Is anyone hurt?"

"Nothing serious."

Rodney grumbled, "Speak for yourself."

"McKay's got a broken wrist and I wrenched my knee."

"We'll have you out of there as soon as possible," Woolsey encouraged.

 

Trying to focus his thoughts, Rodney said, "This isn't making sense. Why the sudden malfunctions?"

"Just lucky I guess," said John.

The throbbing in his arm making it difficult to concentrate, Rodney shook his head. "There has to be a common denominator."

"You mean other than it all seems to be happening to me?" Sheppard shifted so he could stretch out his injured leg.

"That's it." Rodney snapped the fingers on his good arm. "It is you. You're the common denominator. Why didn't I see it before?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Every malfunction has involved you." Rodney frowned. "But it doesn't make sense--Atlantis loves you. Why has she suddenly turned on you?"

"Maybe she wants a divorce?" Sheppard drawled wryly.

"Probably tired of you cheating on her."

"Technically," Sheppard observed, "Atlantis loves my gene not me."

"Of course!" Rodney beamed and slapped Sheppard on the knee, eliciting a groan and an angry frown. "Everything that has malfunctioned has employed Ancient technology."

"But the stargate and the doors don't need the Ancient gene to operate."

"No, but they were created by the Ancients."

Sheppard frowned. "Why would things suddenly turn on me?"

One moment McKay was shaking his head, the next he was wagging his finger. "It started when they brought you back from that planet. Somehow, the illness must have affected your gene."

"Is it permanent?" John quietly asked.

"I don't know." Rodney shifted to make himself more comfortable on the hard floor. "We'll have to do some tests."

"And keep me away from Ancient technology."

"In the city of the _Ancients_?" Rodney responded pointedly.

"I don't see that I have a choice."

"Even when we get out of here, I don't know any place you would be completely safe." Rodney activated his comm unit, but before he could say anything, Zelenka answered.

"I'm working as fast as I can, Rodney. I know it is difficult for you, but try to be patient."

"Not now," snarled Rodney. "How long before the _Daedalus_ arrives?"

A softly spoken conversation indicated Zelenka was checking with the control room. "Five hours," he finally replied.

"Radek, you can stop trying to fix this thing, there's nothing wrong with it."

"Yes, that is why you are trapped inside with a broken wrist," Zelenka sarcastically replied.

Ignoring his colleague, Rodney said, "McKay to the infirmary."

"Keller here," Jennifer quickly answered.

"Jennifer, I need you and Carson to go over Colonel Sheppard's blood work, see if you can find any anomalies."

"What kind of anomalies?"

"If I knew, would I be asking you to look?" Rodney asked impatiently. "Pay particular attention to the ancient gene."

"We'll start on it as soon as we have you out of that transporter."

"No, now. We're staying right where we are until you find an answer or the _Daedalus_ arrives."

"You're both hurt," protested Keller. "You need medical attention."

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Rodney knew she was right, but it didn't matter. As strange as it sounded, they, or rather Sheppard, was safer here than anywhere else on the base. Hungry and in pain, five hours would feel like five days. But the suffering would be worth it if no other lives were put in jeopardy. And Rodney wasn't about to let Sheppard suffer through this alone.

"When the _Daedalus_ arrives," Rodney ordered, "have them beam us directly to the infirmary."

"Will that be safe?" asked Sheppard.

"We got the beaming technology from the Asgaard."

"Let's hope they didn't get it from the _Ancients_."

 

John had never had a problem with small spaces. If he had, he never would have made it as a pilot. Nor was this the first time he had been trapped with Rodney McKay, but it was taking its toll. He was grateful Rodney had discovered why Atlantis was trying to kill him but being trapped with the man was pure torture. John wasn't sure which hurt worse, his knee or his ears. He tried to be tolerant, knowing much of Rodney's mood was due to hunger and pain. He knew, because he was having trouble concealing his own agony. His injured knee had swollen to such a degree it was straining against the fabric of his pants.

"Colonel," Woolsey's voice interrupted another McKay tirade, "the _Daedalus_ has arrived."

Even without looking at his watch, Sheppard knew the ship was early. And he was extremely grateful for it.

"They're ready to beam you and Dr. McKay to their infirmary," continued Woolsey.

"Negative." John ordered, "Only transport me."

Stuttering in disbelief and anger, Rodney finally spoke coherently. "What do you mean? Why are you leaving me behind?"

"Because right now, I don't trust any advanced technology. If this doesn't work, I'll be the only one affected."

"Not the only one," whispered Rodney.

Scooting as far away from McKay as he could, John activated his comm. "I'm ready when you are, Mr. Woolsey."

Despite himself, John closed his eyes as he waited for the Asgaard beam to take him. His reason was two-fold. He didn't want to see Rodney's face and he didn't want Rodney to see any fear in his eyes.

When he materialized on the floor of the _Daedalus'_ infirmary, John almost kissed the floor in relief. He hadn't been so happy to see the ship since the siege of _Atlantis_.

"All right, lad, let's take a look at that leg." Beckett knelt at Sheppard's side.

John jumped at the doctor's sudden appearance, jarring his injury. He bit his lip to stop a groan from escaping.

Scissors cut his pant leg, relieving some of the pressure but none of the pain. Propped on one arm, John wrapped his other hand around a bed's leg, certain his grip was so tight the metal would be deformed by the time Beckett was done.

"Hey, Doc, aren't you supposed to be testing my blood?" asked Sheppard.

"We're running the last one now. I thought I would be more help to you here than watching a centrifuge spin." Beckett laid a chemical pack across the damaged knee.

As the pain diminished under the numbing cold, John gasped through gritted teeth, "Thank you."

 

"So, what's the verdict?" demanded Rodney.

Jennifer held an x-ray up to the light. "Your wrist is definitely broken."

"I don't mean me. What's wrong with Sheppard?"

"There were some anomalies Dr. Beckett hadn't seen before."

"So I was right! The city was trying to kill Sheppard." Rodney lay back on his bed, satisfaction on his face.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say she was trying to kill him. But apparently she did feel his mutated gene was a threat."

All his pleasure disappeared. Rodney couldn't imagine Atlantis without Sheppard. Actually, he didn't need to imagine it. There had been too many times when he had thought he would never see John Sheppard again. He already knew how it would feel, and he didn't like it. "Is it permanent?"

"We don't think so." Keller gathered supplies to set Rodney's arm. "The mutation was much worse in the blood samples we took when Colonel Sheppard first came back from the planet. But we just can't be sure if the anomaly will completely disappear. If it doesn't, the colonel will never be able to set foot on Atlantis again."

As far as Rodney was concerned the doctor had just declared a death sentence, possibly for Atlantis, certainly for Sheppard. The two couldn't survive without each other. There had been too many close calls in these last five years to dispute the fact.

"How long before you know?" asked Rodney.

"It's impossible to tell." Keller slid her hands into latex gloves. "We've never had this happen before it could be days or years for all we know."

Rodney finished, "Maybe never?"

"There is the possibility." Keller admitted sadly.

Laying back on the gurney, Rodney closed his eyes against a future he didn't want to contemplate.

"Try to relax, Rodney," suggested Keller, "I need to align the bones and it's going to hurt."

As the ice packs that had reduced the swelling in his arm were removed, the numbness they had caused diminished. If there was one thing Rodney had learned how to endure since coming to the Pegasus Galaxy, it was pain. But he barely noticed, too wrapped up in the thought of losing the company of his friend.

 

"You're sure it's safe to go back?" demanded Sheppard one more time, eyeing Beckett.

Carson sighed. "As far as we can tell the virus is gone from your blood work. We won't know for certain until you encounter Ancient technology. You'll be transported to the hallway outside of the infirmary."

"So I'll be close, just in case?"

"It was a consideration," Beckett admitted. "You won't be able to move fast with that brace on your leg and those crutches."

Sighing, John stood clear of the beds and other paraphernalia associated with the _Daedalus'_ infirmary and activated his comm. "One ready to beam down."

"Just a minute," protested Carson.

"Sorry, Doc, this is a solo flight, just to be on the safe side." John's eyes stayed glued to the indignant face until it faded to be replaced by an anxious one.

"What took you so long?" demanded McKay.

The words said one thing, but the eyes said another. John knew Rodney had been just as worried about this as he was. Tearing his gaze away, John regarded the infirmary doors with trepidation. He wished there was another way to be sure the virus that had attacked his genes had been eradicated. But of all the ancient technology, this was probably the most innocuous. Which actually said a lot about the Ancients. As he gathered his crutches close to his body, a bright light blinded him. When the spots had diminished enough for him to see, John wasn't surprised to find Beckett standing at the edge of the small group that had gathered to watch the test.

"Ya didn't think I would let you do this alone, did ya, lad?" Carson growled.

John jerked his head, indicating the crowd that had gathered: McKay, Teyla, Ronon, Keller, Woolsey, Zelenka, and Lorne John swung one of his crutches indicating the large group. "I'm hardly alone," he said.

"We're ready when you are, Colonel," said Woolsey.

Interpreting the statement as a hint to get moving, John approached the infirmary doors. He was tempted to send his crutch across first, but he knew the inanimate object wouldn't trigger the door's mechanism. Taking a deep breath and putting more of his weight on his good leg rather than the crutches, he started over the threshold. When he made it safely across, he turned and grinned at his audience.

A hand waving him back, Carson ordered, "Try it again."

The second attempt was as uneventful as the first. John wasn't sure whose sigh was the loudest, but he figured his was right up there.

 

Rodney looked around the mess hall. When he didn't see Sheppard at any of the tables, he crossed to the balcony. Though the air was chilly and damp from a recent rainstorm there was one occupant.

"You got something against comfort?" demanded Rodney, unhappily putting his tray on the table across from Sheppard's.

"A man's dead because of me," said John, staring out across the city.

"No, no, no, you do not get to go there," Rodney protested. "Far be it from me to belittle anyone's existence, but everyone in this city, including that corpsman, owes you their lives."

"How can Taylor owe me anything? He's dead."

Ashamed to realize he hadn't even known the corpsman's name, Rodney pointed out, "We all knew the risks when we volunteered for this assignment."

"I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for that gene, and it killed a man."

"But it has saved many others, including me." Rodney softened his voice. "I'm sorry Taylor's dead, but I'm not sorry you're still alive."

John's gaze briefly rested on McKay before returning to their original view. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Rubbing his hands to warm them, Rodney looked out at the graceful towers surrounding them. "She's just as beautiful inside."

"But you can't see this inside."

"It'll still be here when the weather warms up."

"But I might not." John picked up his fork and absently speared a piece of fruit from his plate. With a contented sigh, he whispered, "I'll never take her for granted again."


End file.
